Chapstick
by DramioneLurver
Summary: Draco Malfoy wakes up one cold winter morning in desperate need of chapstick. Yet he doesn't have any. Where can he find some? Blaise, his best friend? The Room of Requirement? The Hospital Wing? Hermione Granger, the Muggleborn Gryffindor bookworm? DMHG
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All that you know and adore is owned by the marvelous JKR. The rest, is my pathetic attempts to make a non-canon ship come to life. Not my fault I'm obsessed.

A/N: hehehe… my first thing to be posted! I would LOVE you if you gave me feedback- then I would know if I should post any of my other work. I originally planned for this to be a oneshot, but it became so long that I'll be posting it as many short chapters... it's also a D/Hr, like most of my fics. Not HBP _or_ OOTP compatible.

When I woke up that winter morning with a scowl on my face, I knew it was not going to be a good day. And I was right. Even down in the school's chilled dungeons I could hear from outside a howling wind, no doubt fiercely cold and blowing white snow wildly through the air before it met its fate of crashing into the already stiff, snow-covered Hogwarts grounds. I had barely sat up in my bed when I felt my lips sting and my back ache. Closing my eyes once more because keeping them open was so difficult (the constant tugging I had felt on them painfully remained me of the death-grip of a certain disgusting Slytherin), I lifted my fingers to my mouth to slowly run them lightly over my chapped lips. They felt horrible, with deep crevices forming a maze of skin as dry as the Sahara Desert. This would not do. No this would not do at all.

I needed some chapstick. Good chapstick. And soon.

But I didn't have any. Chapstick was a Muggle item, and Draco Malfoy did_ not _own Muggle items (the thought was revolting). I doubted any of my idiot fellow Slytherins did either. I swore aloud at the irony that Pansy Parkinson and her friends flaunted disgusting amounts of _lipstick_ but had no clue was useful, convenient _chapstick_ was. Maybe Blaise would though. After all, Blaise was the most practical Slytherin of their year, after myself of course.

After a quick shower and shortened version of my normal morning routine (a 45 minute process during which I made sure I still looked positively perfect), I strolled into the Slytherin common room right as the clock above the mantel stuck 6. Although most of the members of my house slept in until 11 or later on such a Saturday morning, Draco Malfoy had always been an early riser. Until the middle of fourth year, I would wake around 5 to come down to the common room for some a lone time. But for the last two years I preferred the quiet, empty castle to the company of the other two Slytherins currently in the common room. Very few Hogwarts students took the opportunity to wake early on Saturday so I usually could wander wherever I wished without meeting a soul. Though my favorite places to go were the lake and this peculiar room on the seventh floor, which somehow always had what I wanted. Perhaps if Blaise didn't have any chapstick I could find some there.

Strolling up to the couch where my friend laid silently, I grimaced at the site of Pansy Parkinson in Blaise's arms. Seriously, I could not understand how Blaise had ever become so infatuated with her. Only I knew, but for some reason, the two Slytherins had grown a strong attraction towards each other over the years. When Blaise had told me of his desire to take Pansy to the Yule Ball their fourth year, it had been I who had came up with the ingenious plan of covering up the whole affair (which was strictly forbidden since Blaise's mother had picked out a bride for him years ago) by having Blasie go 'solo' and myself and Pansy go 'together.' Once everyone at the ball had had enough to drink (I had no doubt in my mind that one of the Weasley twins would spike the punch bowl that evening with firewhiskey- and I was right), no one would notice when Blaise and Pansy danced together or slipped outside. The plan truly was perfect.

Since then, the couple had managed to keep their relationship secret by sneaking into empty classrooms, ditching meals and classes, staying up late, waking early, or going off to "study." The way the two of them were looking at each other right then gave me the unpleasant desire to hurl. It was sickening. Ignoring the impulse to run to the lavatories and bow to the throne, I loudly cleared my throat to get my friend's attention. The two were startled but didn't bother to leap off the couch and try to act innocent or anything. I inwardly shook my head at their idiocy; one day it would be a professor, or some other student instead of him and all three of their lives would be over.

Both of them relaxed when they saw it was only Draco. "Hey mate," greeted Blaise, tearing his gaze away from Pansy.

"Nothing much. But, hey, do you happen to have any chapstick I could use?"

Pansy looked confused at the mention of the strange name, but Blaise knew what I was talking about. He quickly shook his head slightly. "Naw. Sorry, mate." Looking up at my mouth, he gave out a small laugh. "Though it does look like you could use it," he teased, a grin still lingering on his face.

Scowling, I grew angry at the knowledge that my pale face was turning slightly pink from embarrassment, which only resulted in me getting redder as I headed for the exit. The anger lessened slightly as the scowl on my face transformed into a smirk at Pansy's next words:

"What's chapstick?"

As I pondered how small Pansy's brain was, I pushed through the stone wall and shut it firmly behind him.

Which really was a shame. If he had stayed, not only would he have heard Blaise's rather hilarious explanation of what chapstick was, but also Pansy's remark once she finally understood.

"Ohhhh….that stuff? I have some in my dorm. Mother makes me bring it. She says that it works better than anything any wizard or witch has developed. Though I'm not to say so to anyone else."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All that you know and adore is owned by the marvelous JKR. (all hail!) The rest, is my pathetic attempts to make a non-canon ship come to life. Not my fault I'm obsessed. Well…

A/N: Thank you for reviewing! It means a lot to me! Sorry this one is kinda short!!

However, because he had left too soon, he hadn't gotten any of Pansy Parkinson's chapstick, and was on his way to the mysterious room on the 7th floor.

I remembered the first time I had found the room. It was back in third year, the night after that Mudblood Granger had dared slap me. I had been searching for an empty classroom where AI could be alone. I had wanted to thin. A question had been burning in my mind that I wanted answered. Not that all that time thinking had helped me find it. I still didn't know why the Mudblood's attack had hurt so much inside or what that other strange feeling was that had suddenly appeared within my stomach whenever I saw her. I didn't like dwelling on the subject- it always proved unfruitful. The only good that ever came out of it was the discovery of that strange room.

Since I had found it all those years ago, I had returned numerous times- to study in peace, to get away from his troubles, to think, to sleep, after Quittich games which I had lost to sodding Potter, after depressing classes where I got that strange feeling again after seeing the Mudblood all happy with her friends, after a disgusting fake display of affection for Pansy when other Slytherins became suspicious. I had even referred the place to Blaise and Pansy as a place they could sneak away to.

After what seemed like ages, I finally reached the seventh floor. I knew the room was across from the strangest tapestry- a depiction of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls. He deserved it really; he should have known the trolls wouldn't actually listen to him lecture on ballet of all things. Two hallways and turns to the right and I found myself in front of the item itself. I wrinkled my nose in disgust, it was a horrid looking thing and I wondered why anyone would ever be inspired to waste all that time to make something so unappealing. Averting my eyes from the revolting artwork, I began to walk back and forth, a single thought on his mind.

_I need some chapstick._

_I need some __**good**__ chapstick._

_I need some good chapstick __**now**_

Turning around, I looked at the previous blank wall to find a simple wood door. Thinking my lips were finally going to feel better and that I would finally once again look like my perfect self, my hand reached out to grab the handle and yanked it open.

I had wanted chapstick.

I had asked for chapstick.

I had expected chapstick.

I had not expected to find two people tangled in each other's arms snogging the bloody daylights out of each other like they had no other bloody purpose in the world! And to make matters worse, I recognized the two blubbering idiots! Never in my life would I, Draco Malfoy, have imagined Ernie I'm-So-Perfect-And-Never-Break-The-Rules-Cause-I'm-A-Bloody-Prefect Macmillan to get together with Millicent Living-Boulder-Who-Doesn't-Know-The-Difference-Between-A-Person-And-A-Boulder Bulstrode. The results were… horrifying. I'd be scarred for life. And they didn't even notice me in my misery.

Wishing to save myself from any further torture, I quickly slammed shut the door (which the two of them probably didn't even notice) and tried to erase that memory from my mind forever. And tried. And tried.

Then I remembered that I still needed chapstick. So I headed down towards the Hospital Wing to see if Madame Pomfrey had any chapstick. And maybe ask for something to treat shock. And maybe a little something for the sore in my back…

Which really was a shame. Cause if he would have gotten over the disgusting factor that Ernie and Millicent were secretly meeting up on a Saturday morning in a broom closet to snog each other senseless, he would have seen the rows and rows of tubes of chapstick.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All that you know and adore is owned by the marvelous JKR. (all hail!) The rest, is my pathetic attempts to make a non-canon ship come to life. Not my fault I'm obsessed. Well…

A/N: Thank you for reviewing! It means a lot to me! I'm sorry for the late update, but my parents think I'm spending way too much time on ffn, so they BLOCKED IT!!! _noooooooooooooooooo!_ Well, anyways, I'm stuck with proxies and the computer at school until I can convince them to _unblock_ it, so I apologize before hand for the lack of updates! To make up a little for it, this chappie is longer than the last one!! Enjoy! And tell me if you like!

However, because he had left so abruptly, he hadn't gotten any chapstick and was now on his way to see Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing.

I had been to the Hospital Wing several times in the past 5 ½ years, though only a fraction of the times Potter had managed to land in there. I snickered at the thought. Potter probably had his own bed reserved specially for him. I had somehow ended up in the Hospital Wing at the same time during our third year. The memory brought an all-too-familiar smirk to my face. It was back in third year that I had put on that fabulous act of being horrifically hurt by that beast of that idiot Hagrid. Oh, how fun it was to make other people suffer AND make Potter and the Weasel shake with fury at the same time!

Though there was that strange feeling I had felt when seeing the Gryffindor Bookworm searching so desperately in the library through piles of books for any scrap of information that would help the person I had hurt and save the creature I had condemned….

No, I must not think of that, just push it out of the way… yes, that's it…

Now. Where was I headed?

Oh, yes, the Hospital Wing. Relief for sore back, chapped lips, and shock. Hopefully that blasted nurse would be competent enough to have the necessary items.

For some reason I doubted it.

My thoughts were uninterrupted in the silent corridor. Just as I had expected, practically no one was up this early on a cold winter Saturday morning. As I passed the Great Hall, I decided to check just exactly how many Hogwarts students were, as his _friends_ out it, 'completely and utterly insane.'

The heavy, wooden doors slid open easily, revealing the gigantic room and swirling ceiling of grey and black and white. It really was amazing to watch the whirlwinds of pure white snow descend from the twists of grey and black clouds and then fade off into the air. The chaotic sight pleased me; it meant I was right about the weather, again.

Yet he wasn't here for a weather forecast. Scanning the room, his eyes fell upon an empty Slytherin table (no surprises there), a Huffelpuff couple sitting at the opposite end of their otherwise empty table, a handful of Ravenclaws, and a lone Gryffindor. I didn't even have to look to know the Bookworm Granger would be that one Gryffindor. After all, who else was crazy enough to wake up purposely early every Saturday morning, scarf down a breakfast, and hide away in the school library until beckoned elsewhere? Bloody disturbing that girl was sometimes… spending all her time in the library, in class, or in a book… and not liking Quidditch!! That was certainly unforgivable. Being a Gryffindor and a Mudblood was also unforgivable. Wasn't exactly eye candy either- with the wild, frizzy hair and loose robes that were as much her symbol as her Prefect badge.

Involuntarily, an image of a beautiful 15 year old girl popped in my head. Her wavy brown hair was held back in a sophisticated bun, though a few rebellious curls had escaped and were lying on the periwinkle fabric of her dress robes. The silky robes fell gracefully along her smooth body. Her smile was amazing, small but radiant. Her eyes were swirls of earth that anyone could search for hours and never discover all their secrets. Small, delicate hands twisted the soft material nervously as a slight blush rose in the gorgeous girl's cheeks…

"ARGH!!!"

Screaming and slamming the doors shut most likely led every student in the Great Hall to shoot an inquiring glance towards the entrance, but I wouldn't know for sure; I was too busy yelling at myself for thinking of the Mudblood Granger that way. Going to that Yule Ball and staring at her was probably one of the worst mistakes of my life. For two years he had had to deal with that particular memory appearing everywhere. For weeks after the Ball, she in her beautiful dress with her hair back was the sole occupant of his dreams. Dreams that drove him insane. Now he had to insult her every time I saw her to remind myself that she is a Gryffindor know-it-all Mudblood, friend of Scarhead and Weasel.

Bloody hell. I really needed to get to the Hospital Wing. Where was it? Thank Merlin. It was right around the corner here…

Pushing the wooden doors open, I walked into the practically empty infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was preoccupied with the only patient in the place. I was almost surprised it wasn't Potter or one of his Gryffindor pals. One look at the girl nearly had me laughing uncontrollably. Her skin had somehow turned hot pink and she had lime green sores all over her face. The fuzzy bright blue hair only partially covered her overly large ears that were currently flapping up and down gently. Someone must have gotten into a duel. Funny, I hadn't heard of any fight yesterday. Maybe it was from this morning. But if that was the case, where was her opponent? The girl bore a Ravenclaw symbol on her school robes and looked like at least a fourth year; she couldn't be that incompetent…

The strange sound I must have emitted when trying (and half failing) not to keep in my laughter must have been what caused both Madam Pomfrey and the funny-looking patient to look at him strangely.

"What?" I shot out at the pair.

"May I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" Madam Pomfrey did not look pleased to see me, but still put down her things and walked to see what the matter was.

"I don't know," I drawled, "I need something for a sore back, you got anything for that?"

The woman glared at me; I stared blankly back. The she left the room and I turned and glared at the Ravenclaw girl in the bed.

"Is that all, Mr. Malfoy?" an annoyed Madam Pomfrey asked when she returned with a blue bottle and small glass.

"Actually no." Madam Pomfrey almost seemed to expect this reply; she continued to pour the light blue potion into the glass until it was full. "I need something f-"

"Drink this," she interrupted, handing me the glass.

"For shock," I finished, angry at being interrupted. The two glared at each other for a few seconds before Madam Pomfrey turned on her heel and headed to her supplies to retrieve another potion from the stock. At the doorway she paused again.

"Would that be all, Mr. Malfoy?" she sniped.

"Actually, I do need something else, but I doubt you would have any…" I drawled. The nurse seemed offended at the idea that her Hospital Wing was incompetent.

"Is that so?" she demanded haughtily.

"Ever heard of chapstick?" I asked, half hoping the witch did and had some, I really needed it.

The look of confused disbelief covered the nurse's face. She really had never heard of this chapstick before. In frustration, I rolled my eyes and stomped out, muttering, "I thought so… sodding nurses…"

Which really was a shame. If he had stayed not only would he had received something for shock, but he would have heard the conversation Madam Pomfrey and her patient had after he left.

"Did you see that boy's lips? Now those were chapped," the girl commented, perhaps glad to find something to distract her from what she herself looked like at the moment.

"Yes," replied Madam Pomfrey, a sight smile rising to her mouth at the thought of Draco's suffering. "You know, if he wasn't so rude and had not left so abruptly, I probably could have found something for him… The Headmaster did bring me some Muggle items. One of them, this small tube-shaped thing- he said was supposed to be the best way to help chapped lips…"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: All that you know and adore is owned by the marvelous JKR. (all hail!) The rest, is my pathetic attempts to make a non-canon ship come to life. Not my fault I'm obsessed. Well…

A/N: Thank you for reviewing! Again, I apologize for the very, very late update. I'll try to be better! I promise! My Christmas prezzie to my reviewers. Sorry the chappie is kinda on the short side, I thought that was a good place to end…

However, because he had left when he had, he received no chapstick (which was indeed the name of the incredible Muggle item the wise Dumbledore had given the Hogwarts nurse) and now had no where to go. And no idea where he could find some Muggle chapstick.

"SODDIN' MUGGLES!"

My vent of anger pierced the dead-still air, and still I had no Muggle chapstick…

Wait a second there…..

Muggle! Any muggleborn here would surely carry a necessity such as chapstick. Right as this thought flew through my mind, I turned the corner to the hallway that led to the Great Hall. As I did I thought I spotted a mass of brown hair flying around the corner at the end of the corridor. Hey now, Granger was a Muggleborn, an intelligent one to boot! She surely had chapstick with her 24/7! I may not be supposed to talk to filth such as her, but I was in desperate need of something in her possession. Besides, it was 6 o'clock on a bleeding Saturday morning, it's not like any sane person was up to see the two enemies talking civilly.

Running down the corridor, I reached the corner only to see the wild mound of hair disappear behind the great doors that led to Hogwart's Grounds.

"Granger!" I shouted. That girl was insane for going outside in such weather. But she did. She left the warmth and safety of the castle before hearing his call. Sodding foolish girl.

Quickly running to the doors and reluctantly pushing them open, I slipped into the harsh winter winds.

"Granger!" I yelled again into the white flurry of snow. Quickly, I pulled out my wand and muttered a few spells. At least I wouldn't freeze. No doubt granger had used the same spells. I searched the ground for footprints, which, luckily, the Gryffindor hadn't Vanished behind her. As I started following the prints, I found myself heading towards the lake.

"Bloody hell. What is this girl thinking?" I muttered softly to myself. After twenty minutes of stumbling through the thick, white snow I could just make out the blue lake. How it stayed liquid all year long, without freezing over, I didn't know. Must be freezing cold though. There were even rumors that huge chunks of ice could be found floating in the center when the winters got really cold. I personally had never seen them, since I was a sensible person and stayed inside on such vile days.

Sensible. Ha. I scoffed at the irony. Here I was trenching through the snow in a blizzard searching for my worst enemy so I could use her Muggle sodding chapstick. My actions were the complete opposite of sensible. I must be going insane.

"I'm not the only one," I muttered to myself. I knew Gryffindors were suppose to be 'brave' and all that junk, but going out during a blizzard? That was just plain sack of hammers.

The footprints swerved and I was soon stumbling parallel to the curvy shore of the lake, heading towards the Forbidden Forest. That daft know-it-all wasn't actually going in there, was she? My memories of the Forest weren't the fondest swirling through my head. I wasn't sure if going back in there would be worth it…

But my worries dissolved as the footprints turned again towards the lake. Raising my left arm to protect my eyes from the wild snow, I looked up and strained to see where it was he was going. Ahead I spotted a dash of color, well, not color, but it wasn't the white or even the blue that I had expected to find covering the entire ground. It actually seemed to be a group of rocks, grey as the sky above. A petite figure in a black cloak was gradually making their way towards them as I watched, cloak being tossed every which way in the fierce wind. No doubt it was Granger crossed my mind. But how in the name of Merlin's fuzzy brown hair that stuck out from the mole on his crooked nose (he actually named it, did you know?) did those rocks stay snow-free in this crazy storm? It must be one of the unknown, magical mysteries of Hogwarts. How long had Granger known of this spot?

Her cloaked figure was now climbing up the pile of stone. Strangely, her thick cloak stopped flying in the wind. As she lowered her black hood to reveal her bushy brown hair, I wondered if somehow the rocks had a barrier around them that kept out the wind and snow. The girl simply sat there on the rock, staring out at the blue lake. She seemed distracted.

Good – she wouldn't hear me coming.

Wait a second… how exactly was he going to approach her? It's not like we were the best of mates; she would probably run away if she saw me coming towards her, right after sending a nasty hex my way. He could quietly come up behind her, sit down, and start a casual conversation. Talk about… class…or something like that. Then ask about chapstick. Then just walk away and pretend as if it never happened… yeah…

My feet soon found themselves at the base of the grey rocks. When I reached my hand out, I found the rock peculiarly warm compared to the literally freezing air around me. My feet quickly found sturdy nooks in the stone as my body was enveloped with a still, empty air. It wasn't warm, nor cold, simply empty. It was like the air above these rocks had rebelled against the ever changing weather that controlled all the other air surrounding it. The thought made me shiver. How could anything be so confident that they would actually succeed, and not just be crushed by the master or even the obedient? Yet, somehow this small bit of air had beaten the odds. It must have been because of some spell or charm, some form of magic. Yes, that must be it; how else could it resist the fierce cold even the sun couldn't extinguish?

Suddenly I felt a stream of jealousy wash through me. Jealousy at the fact that Granger had known of this spot. What made her so special? Lifting his eyes from the grainy rock, I looked up at the figure sitting quietly, still unaware of my presence. Her brown hair was loose, trailing down her back in a hectic twist of fuzzy curls. It was a pleasant color, similar to the warm hue of walnuts. I couldn't see her eyes from this perspective, and had never gone to the trouble of spending time looking at them to find something to compare them to, though I heard they were plain, ordinary brown. Her robes hung loosely from her shoulder; they must have been at least two sizes too large. She had removed her cloak, folded it, and laid it to her left side. Her small hands were lying atop them. Her hands, just like the rest of her, were nothing special.

When you excluded her intellect, her smile and how pretty she could look when she wanted to... AHHH! Stop!! Why, oh why am I thinking so much about sodding Granger! Just walk up, sit, talk, get chapstick. Walk up, sit, talk get chapstick. Walk up, sit, ta-

I thought my plan for relief was foolproof, but that is because I forgot one thing – Hermione Granger has excellent hearing. She must have heard my footsteps, as gentle as they were against the grey slabs. Which really caught me by surprise. I definitely did not expect her to suddenly twist around and look at me. Though I did enjoy seeing the series of emotions that flashed across her face. Surprise. Annoyance. Recognition. Shock. Curiosity. Suspicion. Finally, with narrowed eyes, she spoke.

"Malfoy?"


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Not mine. Have you read the site name?

A/N: Oh gosh. Well, any scoldings I get from my readers are well deserved. I apologize for not updating sooner, and I wish I had an excuse for my behavior, but I don't. Life has just been, kinda crazy, and I stopped updating. But I'll do better now, promise! Wasn't sure where to cut this one off, so I just stopped typing so I could update ASAP!

Unfazed, I smirked, "Was that a question, Granger?" The last couple of steps towards her were quickly closed. "For such a bookworm, you don't seem to remember names very well." I sat down by her, making sure we had plenty of space in-between us. Granger still glared at me though; truthfully it was more of an unbelieving stare, as if she was still trying to convince herself that she was actually seeing what her eyes told her she was seeing. "Because I'm pretty sure there's no one else who looks like this; so there's no way you forgot my face."

Granger raised an eyebrow at me before laughing aloud. "You're right, Malfoy – no one else _does_ look like you! And I doubt anyone is fortunate enough to have the ability to forget such a horrible sight!"

Horrible sight indeed! Did she ever look in the mirror? Okay – so she wasn't _that_ bad on the eyes, but still – I was Draco Malfoy! Most definitely not a horrible sight. Ask anyone. I ought to have put that witch in her place.

But I didn't. I restrained myself. I still needed chapstick and she was still my last resort. So I continued to smirk.

"Been dreaming about me Granger?" I teased, leaning slightly towards her.

"Nope. Haven't had any nightmares for a while now," she remarked dismissively.

My smirk quickly became a scowl. This conversation did not seem to be headed in the right direction. Not good for my chances of getting my hands on some chapstick. New topic…

"So…" I drawled, gazing out at the snow-filled sky hovering over the Great Lake. "Do you come out here often?"

Granger gave him another incredulous look. "Are you sure you're alright Malfoy? I mean, you, Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, pureblood, arrogant, evil intolerable git, followed me, Hermione Granger, Gryffindor, muggleborn, bookworm, know-it-all whom you hate, out into a huge, raging blizzard at 6:30 on a Saturday morning and start acting… well… somewhat civilly! You must surely be going daft!"

I must agree with the know-it-all (though I would never say that to her face), it even gave me a particular feeling of uneasiness – like I knew my actions were somehow against the laws of nature – but I really needed that chapstick. So I dismissed the feeling.

"Nobody will see us. How can they? We're sitting in the middle of a bleeding blizzard! And since nobody will see us, we could always deny any actions – or lack thereof – towards each other at this time. They couldn't prove it even if they did suspect."

My response seemed pitiful, even to my own ears, but it must have pleased the Gryffindor. As I leaned backwards on my hands, crossing my ankles and stretching out my legs to appear relaxed, I could have sworn I saw her smile. But confusion still danced in the eyes that were searching him for hints of malicious intentions. I could tell, see through peripheral vision as she gave a small frown a home on her face.

"But… doesn't it bother _you_?"

I thought for a moment, gaze still resting on the still surface of the lake. I shouldn't have had to think about it at all, but I did. Did it bother me? Talking to her? The answer should have been easy, but it wasn't. So far our conversation had been fine… no curses, hexes, jinxes, or even screaming… yet. Though, it was sort of nice to see the Gryffindor bookworm so peaceful and for once thinking about something other than classes, books, or some drama concerning her fellow Gryffindors. I wondered what she had been thinking about. Sure, it was weird talking to someone I usually taunted, and part of me was screaming in protest of being so… not cruel… to a muggleborn.

Maybe the cold had gotten to me. Or I was going insane from all of the morning's conflicts. Maybe.

"No," I decided, declaring it nonchalantly, "Should it?"

The Gryffindor seemed frustrated, as if she was trying to solve a riddle but every answer she tried ended up failing. A door that no key fit to unlock.

"Well," she began sighing with exasperation, "You've always hated me. Now you follow me through a blizzard early on a Saturday morning, just because? How do I know you're not here to pull some hilarious prank to laugh about with those followers of yours, or if they're sneaking up behind me to scare the living daylights out of me, or… I don't know… kidnap me?"

I laughed. Hard. She didn't seem to appreciate it.

"As if, Granger. Practically the whole castle is asleep, including almost all of my 'followers' as you so christened them."

She was scowling at my laughter now, but I couldn't stop. It really was ironic that she thought those lazy, dim-witted Slytherins would actually wake up early on a Saturday, manage to follow her through a blizzard, and plan how to sneak up on her, and overpower her. Yeah, right.

I calmed down and voiced my thoughts. "They're all too stupid anyways. No way they could pull it off without me or Blaise," I chuckled, "And Blaise is a little preoccupied on Saturday morn–"

Oops. I paused. I hadn't meant to talk about Blaise. Hopefully the Gryffindor didn't notice… Darn. No such luck. She was looking at me with a question in her eyes. I knew she wouldn't let that slip, her eyes sparkled and her expression grew smug.

She teasingly it her bottom lip, giving the appearance of innocence as she pushed the subject he did not want to discuss. "What was that about Zabini, Malfoy? What's he _preoccupied_ with?" she sat up, propped her elbows on her knees, rested her head in her hands, and looked at me expectantly.

"Nothing. It's nothing," I lied, my mind searching for an excuse to give the know-it-all, whom I knew would be persistent.

She raised an eyebrow at me, knowing I was lying. Inwardly swearing, I lamely rushed out, "Just homework."

"Uh huh. Sure," the bookworm wasn't going to drop this. "If Zabini was only doing homework, why would he wake up so early on a Saturday morning to do it? And why would you think it was funny? Hmm?"

Curses. She was grinning openly now. Like the Cheshire cat on Christmas. I wondered if she had forgotten who she was taking to. She was having a normal, insult-free conversation with me, Draco Malfoy! And she was smiling at me! And teasing me! And sitting not-too-far-away from me! And getting closer and closer to a subject I did not want to discuss. If I accidentally told her she'd go blabbing to her Gryffindor friends and then the whole castle would spread rumors… Sure, I'd never have to pretend to like Pansy again, but Blaise would also never talk to me again. I really needed to change the topic of conversation.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I want it. But I also want a million dollars. And a good grade in history.

looks around hopefully

Darn. No A, no million dollars, and no harry potter. Guess I lost my genie again.

A/N: I told you I would update soon! This is my way of apologizing for not updating for forever. Please forgive me?? And, if you will, review! Then I know what you guys do and do not like!

"So do you come out here often?" I asked again, hoping she'd forget my little slip up.

The bookworm rolled her eyes at my ignorance of her questions and obvious attempts to distract her. "I see. You don't want to tell me. Fine. Be that way. I'll find out, eventually." She smirked, her eyes sparkling.

Then, almost as if someone had hit her with a memory charm, her eyes misted over and she calmly answered my question.

"No, not really. Just to… think. Get away."

"Guess I'm spoiling your plans then?"

She surprised me by smiling at me again. Obviously the cold _had_ gotten to her.

"Well, I couldn't very well throw you off my rock into the blizzard in good conscience now, could I?"

I laughed again. "I'm sure you'd have no problems with that."

She faked a gasp of shock.

"Don't look at me that way Granger, you know it's true," I teased. Merlin's ghost! The cold was getting to both of us.

Then a mischievous glint glazed over her eyes and I grew worried about what the Gryffindor was thinking.

"Fine, you win."

She stood up. I felt confused. Was she leaving? Was sh–

"Stand up," she commanded. My eyebrows rose slightly. Then I smirked.

"Make me."

She rolled her eyes again and grinned. Merlin's spectacles, I loved that grin. It was amazing how it li– wait, no tangents! No thinking such things about Granger…

"C'mon…" she whined, which suddenly sounded very compelling, "You're the one who wanted me to throw you into the blizzard."

Oh! So _that's_ what she was doing. I pretended to pout.

"But now I don't wanna go."

Strange how true it was.

Only for the chapstick though.

Right?

"Merlin, are you difficult. Changing your mind every second…"she continued talking as she plopped down on the rock again, except this time we were closer – not that it bothered me. I didn't think it bothered her either. And for some strange reason, that comforted me.

"…boys. Ron and Harry are the same way." I frowned. "Hey now, Granger, Let's not go comparing me to those two! Our names don't even belong in the same sentence!"

She laughed. Merlin I loved that sound.

No – no I didn't.

Then she turned to look at me before responding. "You guys – Oh!" I heard the surprise in her tone followed by the laughter she had not even bothered to try and stifle. She was laughing at me. Why?

"What?!" I demanded.

She giggled. "Geez, Malfoy," giggle, "wh-what," giggle, "what ever hap-," giggle, "happened to," giggle. She was giggling too much. What was she talking about?

"Your _mouth_?"

Oh.

That.

I had forgotten that my lips were so chapped they were cracked and rough and ugly. For some reason I felt my face color.

"They're chapped," I mumbled.

"Well, yeah! I gathered that much by looking at them!" the bookworm exclaimed. At least she had stopped her insane giggling.

"Well, I woke up with them like that and haven't been able to find any chapstick anywhere!" I defended, realizing only afterwards how uncharacteristic it was for me to get this embarrassed around a Gryffindor.

"Oh… so that's why you follow me outside! You wanted muggle chapstick!"


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Let's see… I want… Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Draco, Spike, and Jake

Disclaimer: Let's see… I want… Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Draco, Spike, and Jake.

waits

Nope… my genie is still M.I.A.

Maybe I should work on that history homework…

A/N: First of all, I wanted to say thank you oh so much to my wonderful readers and reviewers!! And thank you for being so patient with me! I know! Shockers, I'm updating! I've actually been meaning to update lately, school just got in the way. If you guys really like it, I might just update on Friday!

So… tell me what you think! And enjoy!

Oh, Merlin.

She wasn't supposed to figure that out.

The girl was just too darn smart for her own good. It was going to get her into trouble one day.

Like today.

"Merlin, Granger, why do you have to be so bloody brilliant?" I sighed in my distress, mostly addressing the question to myself. I didn't even fully realize what I was saying in that statement until she had another episode of face expressions. Disbelief, surprise, delight, and smugness quickly flashed through her eyes. She bit her bottom lip teasingly.

"Draco Malfoy, was there a compliment woven into that statement?" she asked smoothly, eyes sparkling. I loved hearing her voice say my name so calmly. No, I didn't… that was just the cold kicking in… bloody winter.

"Of course not. That was my wittiest insult yet," I heard myself tease back. What was I doing? No. Treating. Granger. Like. That.

Her eyes shined with laughter. "Oh really?" she rose her hand to her mouth and pretended to bite on her fingernail in thought. "If that's the case, I really need to reread the definition of insult."

A smirk slid on my face as I propped my elbow up on my knee and rested my head in my hand. "Ohhh. So perfect Granger isn't as perfect as everyone thinks she is."

Her eyes did that strange thing again – that super-fast run of emotions that reflect from those pools of earth as if they were clear as the water in the Great Lake. Then she smirked. Somehow, she looked even more enticing with that teasing smirk on her fac- No. No she didn- oh, who am I kidding? My inner voice that kept telling me I am not supposed to be doing this was getting annoying.

"Perfect, am I?" she asked, the thrill of being called perfect emitting from her eyes.

I leaned backwards on my hands again. "Not as perfect as me of course."

I chuckled as she rolled her eyes, which, to my surprise ( and slight pleasure ), were not filled with anger or even annoyance. Merlin, the Gryffindor had a sense of humor this morning. Now why couldn't' she be like this all the time?

Then her eyes flashed again. I had seen those types of flashes in people's eyes often – it was the rush of a mischievous idea through the mind.

She stood up, brushing her robes off as she did so. I rose one eyebrow slightly, shooting her a quizzical look. Though if she noticed, she didn't show it.

"So, I guess the perfect Malfoy won't be needing the not-as-perfect Granger's chapstick then, will he?" she shot me a look that clearly said '_Ha ha, look whose got the upper hand now.'_

I stared at her. "You have some?" I demanded, knowing the answer already. Slowly, agonizingly slowly just to annoy him, she reached into a pocket and pulled out a small, blue tube.

"Of course," she responded, smirk still firmly in place. Immediately he jumped up and grabbed for it. Amazingly, she was quicker and retracted her arm behind her back. She started clicking her tongue disapprovingly but the look of amusement was still shining for her eyes.

"Don't be so grabby," she scolded.

"Oh, c'mon Granger!" I whined. I tried in vain to stretch behind her back to snatch the tiny, blue tube in her grasp.

"I don't think so!" her voice rang.

I pouted and crossed my arms. "Why not?"

"Because…" the Gryffindor started, looking pleased with herself, "you haven't said _please._"

Then it was my turn to roll my eyes in protest. Though the temptation to give in grew intense as she brought the chapstick out from behind her back.

"I'm waiting," she teased, uncapping the tube and gently spreading a generous amount of the soothing substance on her already moist lips. As she replaced the cap and rubbed together her lips achingly slow, I coveted the in her hand even more.

Thinking I would be quicker than her this time, I again reached out in another attempt to get my hands on that chapstick.

But the quick Gryffindor bookworm turned swiftly bringing the chapstick close to her while turning her back to me. Suddenly I found myself falling, the Gryffindor's mass of brown hair (though it did smell wonderful) annoyingly blocking my sight. The Gryffindor yelped and then shivered as the two of us crossed the rock's barrier into the blizzard's biting cold. The girl in front of me shrieked and a millisecond later I discovered why as the freezing cold water of the Great Lake enveloped his body. I unwound my arms (somehow they had ended up wrapped around the Gryffindor) and swam through the icy water to reach the surface.

When my head broke through, my vision was clouded by the whirling snow tossing every which way in the wind. I heard a splash nearby.

"Malfoy you GIT!"


	8. Chapter 8

"Malfoy you GIT

Disclaimer: If Harry Potter were mine, I'd be rich and wouldn't have to go to school! Unfortunately, school is still in the schedule and my bank account is practically empty. Darn.

A/N: Thank you all for reviewing! Here's the next chappie, and I hope on establishing a weekly updating pattern from now on. However, this particular fic is almost done! I can't believe it! But feel free to check out my other stuff, I just started posting another Dramione called, Starting Over. nudgenudgewinkwink Enjoy this chappie! Leave me reviews if you can!!

"Malfoy you GIT!" the angry voice of the Gryffindor barely cut through the noise and flurry of the blizzard. My arms and legs seemed to stop working as my entire body grew numb. The hints of splashes to my right led me to slowly follow Granger to the shore. Each stroke seemed to send another shiver of pain through my body. After swimming to the rock ( which had only been 3 meters away to begin with ), I hoisted myself up into the still air of protection it provided. Shivering from the freezing water that still drenched my body thought, so I desperately pried off the heavy cloak, envious of Granger, who had taken hers off before hand. Brushing aside the dripping hair that was plastered in front of my face, I looked over at her and couldn't help but let out a chuckle. She was quite a sight, her normally wild hair so saturated with water that it lay semi-straight down her back, drops falling onto the clothing she was endeavoring to dry. If she had been any other Hogwarts girl her face would've been covered with running lines of make-up, but the only substance masking her face was a thin layer of clear water that clung to her dark eyelashes and slowly dripped from her cheeks, the robes for once clung to her body, still as wet as ever despite her charms.

"You git!" She proclaimed again. "What'd you go pushing me in the lake for?" the anger in her tone emitted through her eyes, and I was sure any other person would squirm under her fiery gaze.

Not me though. I simply rolled he eyes. "I guess I spoke too soon, heh?" I muttered partly to myself. But Granger, with her excellent hearing, heard me anyways.

"What's that supposed to mean Malfoy?" she spat, confusion half hidden beneath her persistent anger with her current state.

"Really Granger! If I had hatched an evil plan to purposely push you into the freezing cold lake water and laugh at you when you climbed out shivering and soaked to the core what, exactly, would I be doing standing here in my drenched dripping robber? Hm, oh Brilliant One?"

She simply stared at me. Then her eyes seemed to actually look at me. As they traveled up from the puddle of water at my feet to water drips forming at the ends of the platinum hair that fell back into my face, I saw a smirk grow on her face. When her gaze dropped back to my own eyes, she started laughing. To my own surprise, I found my own face breaking out into a broad grin. That is, until I felt my lip protest. My hand shot up to my mouth, and gently pressed the fingertips to the cracked skin.

Granger stopped laughing to look back at me, and she started apologizing when she noticed how I was fingering my sore lips. I know this is what she was doing, because her face did that flash through expressions again, thoughtful, surprised, amused…

"What?" I scowled at her she was laughing at me again. Her giggles slowed and her gazed lowered to her shuffling feet as she bit her lower lip, that childish-I'm-in-trouble-but-it-sure-was-funny-look shining in her eyes. Another giggle escaped her open mouth before the words fell out "I think I dropped my chapstick in the lake!" she exclaimed.

My eyes widened. My numb hands fumbled through my robes in search of my wand. When I finally felt its chilled wood in my hand I crossed my eyes with desperation and muttered, "Accio Granger's chapstick!"

My eyes remained closed as I waited, but nothing came. Slowly, my eyelids reluctantly flicked open, only to see nothing but the bloody blizzard and a drenched Gryffindor girl who was smirking her chapstick-soothed lips at a soaked Slytherin boy because she had dropped the chapstick he had wanted. Anger automatically started to pulse through my veins. That is, until I realized what I had just thought – _chapstick-soothed lips_…

My eyes focused on those lips as my ears only partially took in the words they were forming. "You know, I was actually considering letting you use som– "

"Granger," my voice demanded. Those lips frowned at the interruption, but I continued. "is that chapstick of yours waterproof?

While her eyes scrunched up in sight confusion, I would not let the alarms going off like crazy in my mind convince me to stop. Because if I stopped, my mind would delve deeper and all these thoughts would bombard the small part of me that was controlling my actions. As it was, a third section of my mind – the one that had always been throwing those sodding pictures if Granger in my dreams – was so bloody happy, I swear it had started a party in my head,

"Of course," the naïve Gryffindor responded slowly, "But, Malfoy, its obviously stuck under the water. There's no way of getting it ba– Malfoy?"

It might have been the smirk that claimed my face, or maybe the flash of a mischievous glint that I'm sure passed through my eyes or maybe the fact that I had stepped towards her, fractioning the space between us.

"What the heck are you doing Malfoy?" she asked, though I noticed her voice didn't contain its usual fiery tone. The world around me disintegrated into a fuzzy haze as I took another step closer, gaze burning brightly into those puddles of mud that now seemed to be made of something much different than mud, something way more beautiful, enticing, enchanting.

My right arm reached toward her face, the soaking wet sleeve of my robe clinging to my skin all the way down past my wrist. We watched as a single droplet of water fell from my fingertips to her cheek, yet she didn't flinch. Even as I spoke, she seemed more curious than afraid.

"Something I don't do often," I whispered softly.

"Touching a Muggleborn?" she asked, just as soft, eyes climbing from my outstretched hand to my eyes, searching mine as I searched hers. I'm sure we found the same things: uncertainty of what was really happening, nervous anticipation of what was going to happen, and that feeling that this felt so foreign, so different, in so many ways against the way of the world, yet so naturally right.

The name of that last feeling remained on the edge of my fingertips as they finally came in contact with the smooth skin of her cheek, still covered in a layer of water. But again, the girl was wrong; what I was going to do wasn't merely touch her.

"Giving in to a Muggleborn," I corrected gently. She seemed confused as my reference to our previous conversation, but I continued, "Please?"

The word didn't taste bitter in my mouth, as if someone had forced some horrible, vile substance down my throat, as it usually had whenever I had lowered myself to sincerely utter that word towards anyone other than family. It must have sounded foreign coming from my tongue without a sarcastic bite, either that, or the know-it-all still hadn't made the connection and figured out what I was talking about. Ah, yes. Of course it was the latter; confusion still hovered in her eyes. It was amusing to watch the confusion explode into understanding, only to melt into confusion again. What was she so confused about now? For being so brilliant, she sure wasn't acting like it. The sodding winter cold must be infiltrating her brain.

"But… Malfoy… I don't have any – "

Merlin, that girl's brain really was frozen, though it was amusing - knowing I had warned her, and that she had not recoiled from my touch, and that she hadn't actually said no. A kind of half-smirk, half-smile took to my face as my left arm shot out and wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to me so that, when my right hand cupped her chin and guided it up, I could still see her eyes as her brain finally broke out from its shell of constricting ice and started turning in full speed. But in the millisecond it took her to realize what I was going to do, my head had already lowered and my sore, chapped lips had just came in contact with her water-proof-chapstick-covered ones.


	9. Chapter 9

The temptation to close my eyes at the absolute bliss that swept over my being was overwhelming, but the desire to keep staring into those eyes that were mere centimeters from my own, that were so side with surprise and sparkling with a sprinkling of une

Disclaimer: I own nada. Rien. Okay, the clothes on my back and a few other things. Like books and an ipod, but not much! And certainly not HP. That's JKR's.

A/N: Dang it, I almost forgot to update today!! Sorry, busy Friday today. But, like I promised… update!! There's only one more chappie after this one folks, thanks for staying with me! Thanks so much to everyone who review, your feedback feeds my soul!

So, enjoy the second to last chapter! And, please, tell if you like!

The temptation to close my eyes at the absolute bliss that swept over my being was overwhelming, but the desire to keep staring into those eyes that were mere centimeters from my own, that were so side with surprise and sparkling with a sprinkling of unexpected delight, was somehow stringer. My left arm was still gripping the soaked clothing around her waist. My right hand had tangled itself in the drenched mess of her long hair, pressing, with gradually more pressure, her head towards mine, in desperation of getting as much of that heavenly chapstick as possible. And though her brown eyes had widened many times their normal size, I was startled (and I'll admit a part of me was extremely pleased,) that she hadn't pulled away. Nor had she pushed me away, though she was completely in the position to do so; her arms were caught between us as she had instinctively thrust them forward when I had suddenly pulled her towards me, her hands resting on my shoulders. I watched as she let her eyelids fall slowly down, covering the heavenly swirls of earth that were perfect windows to her emotions. With no pools to gaze into, my eyes quickly gave in to that underlying temptation to close my own eyes and relish the joy of the chapstick.

Yet, the longer I held her and kept my lips on hers, the more my mind grew to love not only the remedying chapstick, but the mere sensation of the kiss. Girlfriends had been out of the question these past two years; no sane girl wanted to snog her boyfriend in private and see him with another girl in public. I had pretty much given up that aspect of my social life when I agreed to help Blaise out. The only lips I had ever felt against my own in these past couple of years were Pansy's – we both hated the feeling. She because she was in love with Blaise. I because I could not stand the girl and frankly she wasn't that good of a kisser. I don't know how Blaise could stand those secret passionate snogging-in-a-broomcloset sessions they frequently had. Now, a secret passionate snogging session in a dark secluded broom cupboard for an extremely long period of time with these lips sounded quite appealing. The prospect of feeling her actually participate and not just have a one-sided kiss excited the half of my mind that was pleased by the simple fact that she hadn't pushed me away. The rational portion of my mind pushed a thought into the disorganized mess of chaos – _She's probably just in shock…Don't fool yourself into believing she's enjoying it as much as you are… Remember… she hates you. _That thought depressed my joy and I slowly pulled away, though I kept my left arm around her waist, holding her captive, my right hand sunk in the ocean of wet curls layering over the back of her head. I could feel her hands relax on my shoulders, but I was still afraid that if I opened my eyes I'd see her frozen in fear or shock. Slowly, I let my eyelids start to flicker open, only to find her relaxed eyes still hidden behind her eyelids, a slight smile resting on her face. I felt confused, yet overjoyed, when she opened her eyes and remained smiling.

"Oh. I guess I do still have some, don't I?" she whispered quietly, the only reason I could even hear her was because the protected air around us was so still.

Though my mind was still processing all this unexpected information, my body began to react without its permission. My head leaned back down towards her lips, when she spoke again.

Head tilted up towards mine, eyes threateningly close, hands still resting on my shoulders, her calm voice questioned, "What are you doing Malfoy?"

Unfazed, I whispered into her ear, "More." Both of us knew – and denied the fact – that I wasn't talking about the chapstick my lips were screaming for. Yet, something was troubling her, my blurry mind could sense that much from the look in her eyes, underneath the euphoria and resulting confusion was a definite sense of concern.

"We... we can't... it doesn't make any sense... no one would believe it... much less accept it... and what would Ron and Harry say? And you – you have Pansy. She's your girlfriend friend for Merlin's sake…" she protested, still dazed and hardly paying any attention to the words coming out of her own mouth until she realized what she said. Her eyes grew wide and she pulled away slightly. Her hands pushed against my chest, sliding her way out of my arms until my hands gently rested on the curve of her hips. "Yeah. You have a girlfriend! I can't believe you would be so evil as t–" she paused mid-sentence, tilting her head to the side in confusion as I laughed softly.

"Pansy isn't my girlfriend! She and Blaise have been at it sinc–" I too left my sentence unfinished as my own eyes grew wide, horrified at what I had just unveiled.

Hermione, although confused at this new piece of information that went against what she had heard for the past couple of years, relaxed back into his comforting arms.

"Oh, you so aren't getting out of telling me this story, mister." She smiled broadly at his dripping wet face.

Shaking my head, I protested, "I can't. Blaise would kill me. Anyways, it's sort of… complicated…"

She brought her finger to my lips, stopping them, before speaking.

"For some bizarre reason, it doesn't matter to me right now. I'm feeling uncharacteristically-un-me-ish."

Her gaze darkened for a moment. "So you're not seeing her?" she questioned.

I shook my head.

"You've been pretending all these years?"

I nodded.

She smiled again. "Well, then," she slid the hands that had pushed my chest away up and around my shoulders, locking her fingers behind my neck. Her head tilted ever so slightly, growing closer and closer until her breath tickled my ear.

"I promise not to tell," she whispered.

Smiles covered both of our faces as I ran my hands up her back and returned to her soft, wet locks. When I gently brought her lips back to mine, she immediately let her eyes flutter closed. This second kiss lasted for barely a second, simply a soft whisper of a kiss, when I murmured against her, "Thank you."

We parted again, arms still wrapped around each other, too content at the moment to give up the amazing feeling of holding each other quite yet.

Her soft giggle broke the comfortable silence. My gaze must have revealed my wonder of what she was finding so funny because she explained while reaching her hand up to brush away some of the wet hair that had plastered itself to my forehead.

"Your lips are still in need of some serious chapstick."

Smiling I pulled her closer to me and rubbed my hands up and down softly. "Well, it's a good thing I have myself an endless supply now, isn't it??"

She smiled back, but the corners of her mouth seemed to drop for a moment, a shadow of sadness appearing in her eyes.

"What's the matter?" I prodded, my own smiling fading.

"Well," her eyes drifted, not meeting my own, "I know I said I'd give you time... and I will. But… how long?"

"Me and Blaise can talk it out. Pansy and I'll stage a break-up or something," I grinned again, "It'll be fun."

She laughed and the shadow in her eyes disappeared, "Well, in that case... I think we may have a deal."

"Good," I leaned in closer, until my mouth was hovering by her ear. "Cause I think I may just need some more chapstick later today."

She seemed surprised, but didn't pull away. I took it as a good sign. "I hear we have a trip to Hogsmead this afternoon. Is this true Miss Know-It-All?"

She smiled a little, catching on.

"I believe so, Mr. Malfoy."

I scrunched up my nose and let my grin morph into a grimace.

"You know, you're gonna have to start calling me Draco."

"Only if you call me Hermione.

We both thought about it in silence.

"Give it time," she suggested. I nodded earnestly.

We turned, releasing each other from our embrace, but locking hands.

"Care to return for breakfast?"

_It was still snowing, but neither of them particularly cared. They laughed and chatted as they trudged through the snow, separating only at the Great Hall, promising to meet up at Hogsmead later that afternoon. As they ate breakfast, neither of them could resist sharing secret glances and smiles. It was quite the eventful morning._


	10. Chapter 10

Thus ends the tale of Draco Malfoy's search for chapstick which completely changed his life

Disclaimer: Nope. Wait, let me check again. Okay, I have not magically transformed into JKR. So, nope.

A/N: Okay, this is it everybody. The last chapter of Chapstick! A big thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love you all so much!! I hope you guys like the ending…

If you guys are interested, I am considering doing a sequel. So, tell me what you think… and if you want a sequel!!

Oh, and for those of you who are also reading my other story, Starting Over, I won't be able to update today, even though it is Friday Update Day, because I have not yet gotten the next chappies from my beta. But its coming!

_Thus ends the tale of Draco Malfoy's search for chapstick which completely changed his life._

"Are you two telling the kids that story again?" the smooth voice of his pregnant wife had the blonde-haired man seated on the floor turning around almost at once. He smiled at her.

"Aw, c'mon Granger," Blaise smirked. Old habits die hard, and he had continued calling her Granger through the years. "They love it."

"Speak for yourself!" declared thirteen-year-old Connor from the leather chair where he was seated with a book. "I must have heard that story at least a thousand times."

"But it's so sweet!" argued fifteen-year-old Dawn as she braided her long blonde hair.

"Yeah, sure, but, Dad, could you cut on the details of the kissing?" thirteen-year-old Jacob complained. Connor nodded in earnest from behind his book.

"Aw, you don't like hearing about your mum and mine's first kiss?" Draco Malfoy teased his children.

"I don't like hearing about any of your kisses," mumbled Connor.

"You should try having to watch them snog in front of you while trying to have a conversation," Blaise smirked, remembering the times he and Pansy had covered for the other couple. Over the years the four had gone on many double dates, the girls taking a while to develop their tentative friendship of today. "Doesn't work."

"Ewwww…" Connor protested, making a face that echoed his twin's.

"Oh, stop teasing them," Hermione chastised, sitting down in a comfy chair. Her husband stood up, walking over behind her chair, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"But it's so much fun," he whispered in her ear. She simply smiled.

"How're you feeling?" he continued, hands sneaking down to cover her protruding stomach.

"Fine." She replied, turning her head to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Good," he murmured, letting his head fall to give her a real kiss.

"Ugh," Connor pulled his book in front of his face. "Do you have to do that in here?"

"What can I say," Draco smirked, eyes sparkled, "I never could get enough of her chapstick."

Blaise simply shook his head, mind drifting back to his own wife at home with their four children.

"Why don't we head into the other room?" he suggested as the other couple began what was sure to end up another snog session.

"Why do we have to leave?" Jacob whined, standing to his feet anyways as he did spoke, "We were here first."

"It's bad enough knowing my parents are having another baby," Connor agreed, shuddering as he followed his brother, book still in hand.

"Why do our parents have to actually still love each other?" Jacob whispered to his brother.

"Oh, c'mon you guys," Dawn interrupted, catching up to the two boys. "It's cute!"

"Beats me," Connor responded, almost as if Dawn hadn't said anything. "Sure does have the downsides though."

"Yeah," Jacob agreed fervently, "At least James and Lily get paid to leave the house when their parents go insane!"

Blaise chuckled and followed the kids out as the two of them continued talking.

"Hey, wanna here the one about when your Dad proposed?" he offered with a grin.

Twin groans filled the air as Jacob and Connor collapsed onto the couch.

"Oh, I like that one!" Dawn smiled, pulling out a container of nail polish to keep her occupied during Blaise's storytelling.

In the other room, Blaise heard the married couple part just long enough for Draco to ask Hermione a question before shutting the door, shaking his head, and smirking; practically hearing his best friend's eyebrows waggle with that statement.

"Do you still have some of that chapstick?"


End file.
